


One of a Kind

by thebasement_archivist



Category: The X-Files
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2001-04-15
Updated: 2001-04-15
Packaged: 2018-11-20 11:20:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11334675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebasement_archivist/pseuds/thebasement_archivist
Summary: Thanks to Mulder, Skinner just can't control himself at the office today.





	One of a Kind

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Basement](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Basement), which moved to the AO3 to ensure the stories are always available and so that authors may have complete control of their own works. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Basement's collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thebasement/profile).

 

One of a Kind by m. butterfly

One of a Kind  
by m. butterfly  
  
http://Skinner.Mulder.com/walfox  
Category: M/Sk  
Rating: NC-17 for m/m naughtiness, language  
Spoilers: Three of a Kind  
Archive: Anywhere--just leave my name on it  
Summary: Thanks to Mulder, Skinner just can't control himself at the office today.  
Author's notes: I wrote this silly drabble in response to a challenge forwarded to me by Lucy Snowe (originally dreamt up by Angela Nicole). The action takes place in Season Six, shortly after the events of "Three of a Kind," which featured neither Mulder nor Skinner . So here they are. As always, feedback is greatly appreciated (and answered) at   
Acknowledgments: Undying love and gratitude to the aforementioned Lucy Snowe for "ordering me around" (I love it, baby!) and then beta'ing this thing in record time.  
Diclaimer: These characters don't belong to me; CC, Ten-Thirteen Productions and Fox Broadcasting own them. I'm just borrowing them for a while for my own, not-for-profit amusement. No copyright infringement is intended. Can I play now?

* * *

One of a Kind  
by m. butterfly

"Hey, party girl! I thought you'd left for the weekend."

Scully glared at her partner. "I'm going to kill Frohike." She shut the door to their office behind her and dropped a file folder on Mulder's desk.

"What's this?"

"More test results. On the anoitic histamine."

Mulder glanced at this watch, then cracked the folder open. "And?"

"Same as before."

"Good." He looked over at the door. "You must be relieved."

She sat down opposite him and rubbed the delicate skin behind her right ear. "Langly, too."

Mulder's eyebrows shot up. "He was with you? At the lab?"

Even though the other Gunmen had swept the office thoroughly on Monday, Scully leaned forward on her elbows. "The guys aren't letting that stuff out of their sight, Mulder. And I can't blame them. I told you what happened to their friend Jimmy. And poor Langly--imagine how he'd feel if he'd killed Susanne Modeski..."

Mulder checked his watch again. "You mean, imagine how 'poor *cutie*' would feel."

"Jesus, did Frohike tell you everything I said while I was under the influence?"

"Nah, just the funny things." He closed the file and pushed it toward her. "So there's no danger of you or Langly zoning out again? No other side effects?"

"No. While it certainly impedes higher brain function and makes the victim susceptible to suggestion, the drug itself is harmless. It's the suggestions that can kill you. Like Jimmy." She cocked her head to the side. "Mulder, are you okay? You seem kind of nervous."

He attempted a smile. "I'm fine, Scully. But shouldn't you get going? I thought you had a date tonight."

She folded her arms across her chest. "He's picking me up at eight. It's just after five. You're not trying to get rid of me for some reason, are you?"

Hazel eyes widened in mock innocence. "Qui, moi? Of course not. Just wouldn't want you to be late, that's all." Another time check. "Why'd you come back here, anyway?"

"Oh, I promised the guys I'd pick up the last of the AH samples and drop them off at their place for safe keeping."

"What, don't they trust us?"

"Sure, they trust *us*, Mulder, but nobody else around here. What if someone broke in and took the stuff?"

"But nobody but us, Susanne and the Gunmen even know about it."

She rummaged in her purse until she found what she wanted: a small silver key. "We don't know that for sure. Until we decide what our next course of action is, we're not taking any chances."

A few beads of sweat broke out on Mulder's forehead as Scully unlocked a drawer in one of the filing cabinets.

"Mulder?" She turned to him with a small padded envelope in hand and a puzzled look on her face. "One of the vials is missing."

Oh, boy. He tried to stay calm, maintain eye contact with her, but his gaze kept shifting desperately from her to his wrist to the door. Without realizing it, he started tapping one of his newly sharpened pencils against the edge of the desk.

Scully narrowed her eyes. "Mulder? What have you done *now*?"

"Nothing, Scully! Maybe you just miscounted."

"Miscounted my ass! I swear, if this is another one of your hare-brained--"

Before she could finish her tirade, the door burst open with enough force to dent the wall.

Scully spun around to see a six-foot-two man filling the doorway. He was resplendent in a pristine white shirt, bold red tie and charcoal grey slacks. "Walter!"

"Dana." But the Assistant Director wasn't looking at her. He was staring at Mulder the way a ravenous lion surveys a herd of zebra. *Sleepy* zebra. She'd never seen a glint quite that wild in anyone's eyes before.

She turned to Mulder and saw a similar animal awareness written all over his face. But there were also traces of embarrassment at being caught doing something completely psychotic. "Mulder--"

Skinner strode into the room, loosening his tie with one hand, divesting himself of his glasses with the other. "Dana," he said in a voice about an octave lower than she thought even *he* was capable of, "I think you should go. Now."

"Mulder! You *didn't*--"

Another two long-legged steps and Skinner was at Mulder's desk, at Mulder's chair, gazing down at his lover with undisguised lust. He grabbed the tongue-tied agent by the front of his shirt and hoisted him to his feet.

"Stay, then," he said to Scully. Again, his eyes were glued, unblinkingly, to Mulder's. "Just don't get in my way."

To Mulder's great relief, Skinner loosened his grip on the shirt. Loosened it just enough to slip his fingers inside and--rrrrrrip!

"Mulder!!! You *did*! Are you insane?" One of the flying buttons bounced off Scully's chin.

With Skinner's tongue shoved down his throat, Mulder could hardly breathe, let alone answer her.

Shaking her head in disbelief, Scully quickly gathered up the glass vials and her belongings, dodging Mulder's airborne tie and what remained of his shirt in the process.

"It's Friday night, for God's sake! Couldn't you just wait 'til you got home?"

Skinner was now marking Mulder's neck and throat with bites and kisses while fumbling with his belt buckle.

"You don't get it, Scully. I've always wanted to do it here, but he kept saying 'no.'"

"So your solution to your domestic squabbles is to inject him with a mind-control drug? Jesus, Mulder, he's going to *kill* you for this."

"It'll be worth it." Mulder's back was to his partner, which was a blessing because Skinner had unzipped his fly. "Scully, would you *please* leave?"

The redhead was tempted to stay right where she was. Skinner's head was level with Mulder's chest now, and although she couldn't see what he was doing from this angle, the hungry slurping and sucking noises that were pouring out of him made it pretty obvious. Yes, this was getting interesting.

"Scully!!!"

Mulder's mega-decibel wailing brought Skinner up for air. For the first time since the walking mass of testosterone had charged into the office, he finally looked directly at Scully.

"Hand cream," he panted at her. "I need hand cream."

"Oh, god!" Mulder groaned, his face fire-engine red. "Scully, if you don't get the fuck out of here in five seconds..."

"I'm going! I'm going!" With her purse hanging from her shoulder and her briefcase tucked under the same arm, Scully scooped up the Vaseline Intensive Care lotion from her desk and tossed it to Skinner, who had sunk to his knees. He had to remove one appreciative hand from Mulder's ass to catch the bottle, which he tucked into the back pocket of his slacks.

Frantic to keep himself from being fully exposed, Mulder grabbed the back of Skinner's head and pressed it into his crotch as Scully scooted past them toward the door.

Of course, this only encouraged the brainwashed man. Growling, he turned his face toward Mulder's belly and began tonguing his navel while yanking the struggling man's trousers and briefs down.

Scully could have spared Mulder the humiliation he was obviously experiencing by turning her back once she reached the exit. *Could* have. But didn't.

"Partner mine," she said icily, "if you're still alive tomorrow, you and I are going to have a little federal agent-to-federal-agent talk about the illegal use of a controlled--or, should I say, *controlling*--substance."

"Fine, great, whatever." Mulder was naked now, except for the trousers puddled around his ankles, covering his shoes and socks. Instead of a fig leaf, he had Skinner's head to preserve his modesty. But what that head was doing...

"My, my." Scully removed her hand from her throat and grabbed the door knob. "Well, Mulder, have fun while you can."

"Yeah, thanks, bye." Typical Mulder: a study in misery *and* ecstasy. "And lock the door!"

"Sure. Oh--one more thing," Scully told him, eliciting a groan. "I hope you have a syringe of antidote handy. Looks like *he* could go all night."

Mulder stopped stroking Skinner's bare scalp and gaped at her.

"Antidote?!? Oh, shit!!!"

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Fini  
May 3, 1999

  
Archived: April 10, 2001 


End file.
